


His Morty, His Marrow

by mommycorvid



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Drabble, Emotional, M/M, Mild Gore, can be read as romantic or platonic for the most part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommycorvid/pseuds/mommycorvid
Summary: If he was going to die, he wanted it to be as his bones snapped in his darling's mouth.





	His Morty, His Marrow

Throughout the endless dimensions and realities, fate had a cruel and amusing sense of humor. Somewhere in the cosmos, it was determined that a sweet boy would take form as a humanoid rabbit. While, like most rabbits, he was reactive and constantly observing his surroundings, this nervous little rabbit was blissfully ignorant to the imminent danger his counterpart brought forth.

In nearly every reality and continuum, Rick Sanchez was a mad scientist that murdered and destroyed lives nonchalantly practically every day of his overpowered existence. In this particular realm, the small rabbit would bound after a long, lanky wolf that appeared as more of a silvery azure than a true grey. The other anthropomorphic creatures would observe the pairing with concerned eyes as the wolf would snap his orders and insults at the innocently unaware rabbit.

A common plague among the Morty Smith's of the endless dimensions was an unceasing affection for the scientist they were born to assist. For some Mortys it became an obsession, an abusive situation, a corrupted romantic affair, or simply a kinky fling based on the level of taboo their attraction was.

As for the silly rabbit who willingly followed a wolf into space and who's tail waggled simply at the thought of being nestled to the aging fur that made his old chest look like paradise, the senescent canine provided many things to this little bunny, whether the lupine was aware of it or not.

He was able to be something larger than just a rabbit, a floppy eared rodent that cowered in fear and ran away from trouble rather than into it. He didn't feel like simply another rabbit to be preyed upon. Although, if he wanted to be held between anyone's paws and trapped beneath sharp teeth, his chaotic canine of a grandfather would be his first choice.

Sure, it was silly for a bunny to be lusting after a wolf, especially because that was his grandfather, but his depraved feelings were not unrequited. For the wolf was aware of the pure being's emotions and he tried desperately not to manipulate such a blatant weakness.

The wolf would serenade and smoothly whisper into his soft and flopping ears, but within his chest something feral stirred. Inside of him, he was starving. Not for the flesh, but for power and dominance. His greed-fueled hunger was overwhelming and caused his little lover great fear.

Though the rabbit was afraid, he still nestled into the wolf 's embrace at night. He knew that one day he would awaken to a snarl and the sound of his spine shattering under fervent fangs, jaws crushing his life force as the blood seeped out of the sweet, beloved lacerations.

If he was going to die, he wanted it to be as his bones snapped in his darling's mouth. He knew what could happen by trusting a wolf and he was more than willing to accept his consequences, his beloved's deep and ravenous breathing overtaking the agonizing soundtrack of his small bones splintering and joints shattering. He merely prayed that the canine wouldn't judge himself so harshly for his impulsivity and would deem him to have the sweetest blood of all his meals, his victims.

The only thing Morty's love more than being coddled is being destroyed, entirely ravaged by their Rick's. Going from tucked beneath his bushy tail, then right into the protein that supported his freezing bones, empty carcass, lonely skeleton. To be the rabbit who loved far too much and devoted too much in the teeth, as well as the razor tongue, of an abusive and toxic howler that sang his name like the purest lullaby.

When the soul's nourishment dies to feed an undying and selfish greed, how can the conscience even dream of survival?

Such is the way of someone who turns someone they love into just another mineral in their bones.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a midnight drabble inspired by the Rabbit Morty from Pocket Morty's. Anyway, I proofread this, but I am almost 100% there are still errors, so I am sorry for that! I have a few stories coming out soon and an update to Blinding Faith as well. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, and I especially love feedback, so feel free to comment away! If you have any suggestions, prompts, concepts, or requests leave them in the comments!
> 
> ~ Thank you for reading!


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